Look, I'd rather not anyone get killed, got it? I want you alive, and I don't wanna die and I'm not going to play around with any crazy what-ifs because they're crazy. And you know that.
[He flinches, taking half a step back. That last sentence hits its mark. He does know better, and being sharply reminded puts "sane" and "not sane" back in perspective with a cold splash.
He's still going at his lip though, tearing into it with one sharp canine until he's pierced skin.]
[Cu bristles. He knows it's not the same thing. He's positive, but he can't find the words, which is why Diarmuid's sudden backing down feels like a god send]
[He hesitates a moment, leaning just a bit in Cu's direction as if he's warring with the urge to close the space between them again. But he doesn't. Instead he just slinks back out of the cell, slamming the door a little too hard behind him. HE'LL BE BACK.]
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He's still going at his lip though, tearing into it with one sharp canine until he's pierced skin.]
...I'll have to think, then.
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[a pause]
Or stabbing. Or strangling. Or any of that other weird shit.
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[This time he manages to cut off the impulse reaction before it's done! But then he suddenly wilts and wraps his arms tight round himself.]
...I need to go home.
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...get that arm bandaged properly when you do.
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[He hesitates a moment, leaning just a bit in Cu's direction as if he's warring with the urge to close the space between them again. But he doesn't. Instead he just slinks back out of the cell, slamming the door a little too hard behind him. HE'LL BE BACK.]